A Letter to the Cutest Accountant
by CaptainNinapants
Summary: Leslie decides she needs to write a letter to the most frustrating person she knows.


So I binge watched all six seasons of Parks and Rec in like four days. Our teachers are on strike right now, which means the time I could be wasting in class is actually being used to pretend to write fan fiction and watch classy shows like this. Friendly criticism is encouraged, mostly because I haven't written in a while.

* * *

Leslie sat down on her couch, a notepad on her coffee table. Next to it was a small collection of empty beer bottles and a pen. If only she could remember exactly what she was supposed to write down, or to whom, or for what reason. It took a few seconds of hard thinking before she remembered that Ann had told her to write down her feelings instead of phoning her. Leslie took a long swig of her current beer, and then set to work. Picking up the notepad and the pen, she settled in, prepared to write a letter to her current demon.

_Dear Ben Wyatt;_

_I hate your guts. _

She looked down at what she had written, and nodded in agreement. There was something therapeutic about putting that out there in a nearly public way. But that just wasn't enough for Leslie, she had to write more. Maybe she ought to explain to her future self why this letter exists and who to place the blame on.

_Ann told me to write a letter disclosing how I feel about you. She said I could make it as graphic as I wanted, as long as it didn't end up in her email. So I hate you. I think you're human trash, maybe because I'm like human trash right now, and we could make more trash together. Wait, what? I should warn you though, I'm kinda drunk. Mostly drunk. If any of this makes sense that will be the most impressive feat I have pulled off in so long. _

_There are many topics I would like to address in this letter, and hopefully it isn't going to melt minds. Firstly, you have a cute face. I would like to bring this up because you really and truly do have an enjoyable face. Your eyes are pretty and your hair looks so very soft. I'd like to touch it one day, to pull it, to style it into a mohawk. Why do you shave every day? I mean, your scruff is super hot. I think I speak on behalf of all women if you just kept that on all day, every day, you wouldn't be a totally socially awkward nerd. Also you've got a really great face shape. _

Leslie picked up her beer and took another sip. This was harder than she thought, maybe because she was a little on the drunk side. Maybe in the morning she would have to edit it, type it up on her computer. But computers could be hacked, and this had the potential to ruin her chance at being president. Even when she was drunk, Leslie knew that whatever she did had to not harm her presidential campaign

_Secondly, I appreciate your work_. _I mean, you hired Freddi Spaghetti. I'm not sure you get how big a deal Lil' Sebastian is, but one day you might understand. Just like how one day you might be my first lady. Wait, that isn't right. First man? That sounds weird. I'll work on it. _

_Thirdly, you have a cute booty. And I think you know that already. Nerd._

She smiled at that revelation. His butt was quite nice to look at, and if she wasn't careful, staring at it would make everything so awkward. Also she'd get fired. But mostly awkward.

_On the topic of nerds, you're the biggest one. Those jokes you put at the end of your emails are so stupid. I love them. The fact that your Facebook profile of you dressed as a Jedi LARPing is totally pathetic. I'm even more pathetic for knowing what LARPing is. Let's get married at Comic-con, you dork, so I can proudly show off my freshly snagged cute nerd. Nerd nerd nerd. That's what you are. _

Drunk Leslie thought that was the best part of her letter and drew a photo of her getting married to Ben at Comic-con. She wore her Hufflepuff uniform, and he wore his Jedi robes. In the morning, she was for sure that it would be nothing but a bunch of scribbles, but right now they were the most beautiful fan art of a relationship that couldn't happen.

_In conclusion, if you don't stop what you're doing Ben Wyatt I'm going to strangle you and cut off your face. Stop being my boss, ask me on a date, offer to file my paperwork, answer my drunk texts with promises of kisses and cuddles. Or just cut to the chase and propose. _

_I love you_

_Leslie Knope, future President of the United States of America_

Setting down her pen, Leslie looked at the pad one last time before ripping the letter off of it. She didn't really reread it, not that she felt she had the cognitive ability to correct anything she had said wrong. It was then folded up into a nice little rectangle, upon which she scrawled a fair warning to whomever felt it was their quest to know what this letter contained. Then it was tucked in her book and forgotten about.

"Leslie, you might want to see this." Ben said one night as they were cuddled together on the couch, reading separate books. He handed her a note, and upon one look at it, Leslie groaned inwardly. She really liked where she was at with Ben, and now this drunken note from her past would totally ruin it.

"Oh God, Ben, I'm so sorry. I was super drunk and kind of pissed and I just-" Leslie sighed in desperation. "I'm pretty sure this is the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to me."

"Including that one time your mom hit on me?" Ben smirked, and Leslie wanted to just die.

"This is so much worse. I'm so, so, so sorry."

"I appreciate the critiquing on my facial hair, I can definitely work with that. I don't know if I can just stop being your boss, but we definitely get married at Comic-con. But maybe in a cute couples costume." He laughed, adjusting his body so he could press a kiss to Leslie's head.

"So you don't hate the letter?" She asked.

"Not at all. I love it, almost as much as I love you. Plus, if it makes you feel better, I have one like this written about you."


End file.
